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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29863965">A Life After Death (and then Life Again)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/middaysky0613/pseuds/middaysky0613'>middaysky0613</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Dream SMP Prison Stories [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Crack, DSMP Needs Therapists, Dead Jschlatt (Video Blogging RPF), Dead TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Dead Wilbur Soot, Explosives, JESUS MAN, Murder, Prison, Prisoner Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Scared TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), This poor boy, TommyInnit Needs a Hug (Video Blogging RPF), revival</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 01:07:01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,037</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29863965</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/middaysky0613/pseuds/middaysky0613</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It was all black. </p>
<p>Well, not black. The afterlife was much like the endless void of the End, not any specific color. It wasn't dark, it was just empty. There was nothing below or above him, just nothingness.</p>
<p>Tommy knew he was dead. He had seen the bloodred screen flash in his vision before ending up here. "Tommyinnit was slain by Dream," it mocked. Tommy had begged for his life, and for what? He got beaten to death by his worst enemy with a goddamn potato.</p>
<p>---</p>
<p>OR: Tommy deals with Wilbur &amp; CO in the afterlife.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jschlatt &amp; Wilbur Soot, Wilbur Soot &amp; TommyInnit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Dream SMP Prison Stories [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2195412</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>123</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>A Life After Death (and then Life Again)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Okay, this was very fun to write.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was all black.</p>
<p>Well, not black. The afterlife was much like the endless void of the End, not any specific color. It wasn't dark, it was just empty. There was nothing below or above him, just nothingness.</p>
<p>Tommy knew he was dead. He had seen the bloodred screen flash in his vision before ending up here. "Tommyinnit was slain by Dream," it mocked. Tommy had begged for his life, and for what? He got beaten to death by his worst enemy with a goddamn potato.</p>
<p>Tommy tried to look around, or down. He didn't seem to have a body. There was nothing there. When he made to move his head, much like how he remembered doing when he was alive, nothing happened. His head felt like it was trapped in a fishbowl of emptiness.</p>
<p>"Hello?" Tommy called out. Surely he wouldn't be alone. Other people had died on the SMP. He was sort of sickly excited to see Wilbur, for one. They couldn't hate eachother anymore, because there was no reason. They weren't in the SMP anymore. Schlatt, however, could burn in hell.</p>
<p>"Tommy?" Tommy could recognize that English intone anywhere.</p>
<p>"Wilbur! Oh End Wilbur, thank fuck you're here. I thought I would've had to search for you to be honest-"</p>
<p>"Tommy, what're you doing here?" It was a bit unsettling to hear his almost-brother's voice and not be able to see him. It was like Wilbur's voice was filling his consciousness rather than coming from any specific direction.</p>
<p>"I died, big man. Duh."</p>
<p>Tommy could hear the lack of inflection in Wilbur's tone. "Well, yeah, of course. How?"</p>
<p>"Oh fuck," Tommy realized. "I have a lot to catch you up on, huh?" Wilbur paused, almost signaling him to continue. "Uh... I kinda don't wanna talk about it just yet." His voice cracked a bit at the end of his sentence. The trauma was still fresh and he wasn't really feeling like re-living it.</p>
<p>"Yeah, I guess that makes sense," Tommy could almost imagine Wilbur wearing a fond expression, much like he had before he went batshit insane.</p>
<p>"Uh, Wilbur?"</p>
<p>"Yeah, Tommy?" Tommy thought for a second about his question. "If you're in here, then who's Ghostbur?"</p>
<p>"I've only met the guy twice for like, thirty seconds," Wilbur started. "But I'd say he's the personification of whatever happiness and innocent that I lost when the SMP went to shit. The part that 'died,' per se."</p>
<p>Tommy snorted. "Yeah, it went to shit because you blew it up."</p>
<p>"Well, I suppose you don't need to worry about that now. You're dead." And Tommy was almost happy with that.</p>
<p>-------</p>
<p>It had been what, two weeks? And Tommy was almost going insane himself. There was nothing to do but count, something that Wilbur had said that he had been doing for awhile. One, two, three... it was never-ending. And Tommy had no way to keep track of his counting, so he couldn't truly tell how long it had been.</p>
<p>"Hey, Wilbur?" Wilbur made a noise for Tommy to ask away. "How long have you been here, again?"</p>
<p>Wilbur took a second to think. "I'm not quite sure. I don't count a lot anymore, just sleep. And think," he chuckled darkly. The sound made Tommy shiver. "Not good to think too much, y'know? But if I had to guess, I'd say maybe six or seven years. Hey, you don't really sound much different for it having been six years. Did you just skip puberty or something?"</p>
<p>Tommy was taken aback. It had been nowhere near that long. Maybe six months, at the most. Wilbur died in November. "Um... Wilbur? It's been like, a few months."</p>
<p>Wilbur made a grunt of laughter. "Yeah, no. I'm pretty sure it's been a lot longer than that."</p>
<p>Tommy furrowed his invisible brows. "Whatever you say, man."</p>
<p>--------</p>
<p>It had hit what Tommy believed to be the two month mark already. Tommy swore he was going crazy. Spots danced in his vision, making the dark void seem haunting and deep. All he had was Wilbur and his thoughts. He agreed with Wilbur, being alone with your thoughts was no good.</p>
<p>"Tommy?" Tommy was momentarily taken aback. Wilbur never initiated conversation.</p>
<p>"Yeah, big man?"</p>
<p>"How'd you die? It's been awhile since you've got here and I'm curious. I think I asked you once before."</p>
<p>Tommy knew that question would come up again eventually. "Well, long story short, Dream challenged me and Tubbo to a duel and we almost lost but didn't because the whole server came and saved us. We send Dream to his own prison- wait, were you even there when he was building it?"</p>
<p>Wilbur answered, "No, I don't think so. I died in November of 2020, when did they start building it?" Tommy thought for a second.</p>
<p>"The beginning of December, I think." Wilbur hummed in confirmation and Tommy took it as a sign to continue. "So, Dream got put in the inescapable prison that he built himself, which is kinda ironic. It's pretty much impenetrable. Obsidian and redstone and stuff. Sam's the guard on duty there right now."</p>
<p>"Hurry up and tell me how you died. We can get to all that stuff later. I wanna hear the juicy bits."</p>
<p>Tommy huffed. "Okay, okay. Also, gross. 'Juicy bits.' Anyways. So I was visiting Dream to tell him that I'd never visit again, and then I killed his cat, and he beat me to death with a potato."</p>
<p>Wilbur giggled. "With a potato?"</p>
<p>"Hey, it's not funny!"</p>
<p>"It kinda is."</p>
<p>-----------</p>
<p>"Wilbur~"</p>
<p>Wilbur sighed in annoyance. "Yes, Tommy?"</p>
<p>"How the hell do you keep yourself busy? I think I'm starting to see things."</p>
<p>"Well, sometimes Schlatt and I like to play games." Wilbur said.</p>
<p>'Schlatt?' Tommy thought. "Where's Schlatt?"</p>
<p>"Oh, yeah," Wilbur hummed. "He'd jerked off for weeks straight and nutted so hard he passed out. He's been asleep for months."</p>
<p>"Wait, really?!"</p>
<p>"No, dumbass," Tommy heard Schlatt's southern drawl break the silence. "I just couldn't be bothered to join in on your boring conversations."</p>
<p>"Hey Schlatt," Wilbur said non-comittedly. Tommy blanched.</p>
<p>"Wait, wait, wait- Wilbur, how are you so causal around JSchlatt? Didn't he basically ruin the whole SMP? Why aren't you guys trying to like, kill eachother?"</p>
<p>"I'd say your buddy Wilbur over here did that himself with that TNT," Schlatt chuckled.</p>
<p>"Oh, shut it Schlatt." Tommy was weirded out. Why the hell were these guys so causal?</p>
<p>"Uh... about those games, Wilbur. How do you play games when there's nothing around?"</p>
<p>"Good question, Tommy," Wilbur started. "The cool thing about being delusional is that you can sort of envision a game, and the others can see it, too. Like a hologram."</p>
<p>Tommy seethed. "Why the hell didn't you tell me about that when I got here?! I've been counting to a million every day! I'm bored out of my mind!"</p>
<p>"You can't play if you're sane, silly," Wilbur giggled a sickening laugh. "You're sadly not quite insane yet, but you're teetering on the edge. The silence and darkness should've given you a push, and hey! You're seeing things! Up for a game?"</p>
<p>"No, you sick fuck," Tommy spat. He'd just go back to imagine picking flowers with Tubbo, ignoring the angry green man infiltrating his dreams.</p>
<p>--------</p>
<p>It had been four months, and Tommy was sure he was actually insane. He muttered to himself occasionally, but the only thing really keeping him afloat was his thoughts of Tubbo and the other SMP members. Surely Phil and Sam and Tubbo had had a funeral for him, right? Was Ranboo there? Did they actually miss him?</p>
<p>"I doubt it," Wilbur said floatily. "The SMP is better off without us, anyways. We didn't belong."</p>
<p>"How the hell did you hear that? I was thinking it!"</p>
<p>Wilbur tsked. "No, dumbass, you were speaking it. Once you really go crazy you'll never be able to have an organic thought. It'll just," he made a popping sound. "Pop out."</p>
<p>"Well, you don't seem to have gone crazy."</p>
<p>"Nah, not yet."</p>
<p>Tommy wondered how Wilbur had stayed sane when he had barely managed to himself.</p>
<p>"Oh, that's easy," Tommy hated this. "I just imagine the thrill of what I'd do to L'Manburg and everyone on the SMP if I ever got back. I don't exactly want to go back, but you can be sure if I did it'd be a shitshow. Didn't you mention bringing me back that one time I was able to talk to you?"</p>
<p>"Well, yes- but wait, backtrack a second. What would you do to the SMP?" Tommy asked, worried. He wasn't sure why exactly he would be worried when he was dead, but he still cared about some of the members.</p>
<p>"Eh, probably more TNT." Tommy flinched at the mention of the explosives that were the root of a lot of his trauma.</p>
<p>"Um... Dream's already done that. L'Manburg is a crater. To bedrock. Nobody's really bothered to rebuild."</p>
<p>Wilbur laughed, this one actually filled with some weird sort of humor. "Oh, great. He really did my job for me, huh? How's Dream-y holding up?"</p>
<p>'Dream-y?!' "I mean... he's gone a little crazy himself in that prison."</p>
<p>"Hey Tommy, you're doing that weird shakey breath thing again," Wilbur stated. "You do that a lot."</p>
<p>"Well, yeah! If you talk about things like that it makes sense. Things like- TNT! And stuff." Tommy huffed angrily. "Whatever, just shut up."</p>
<p>"Hm," was all Wilbur said back. Tommy assumed the conversation was over.</p>
<p>------</p>
<p>"Ey, man!" Tommy groaned. In his five months of being in the void he had luckily not had to deal with Mexican Dream. He had known that the Dream knockoff would show up eventually, but he had hoped it would be longer. Now he had to deal with the guy.</p>
<p>"Hi, Mexican Dream."</p>
<p>"Hey, MD!" Wilbur chirped.</p>
<p>'MD? Since when were Mexican Dream and Wilbur friends?'</p>
<p>"Since I died, man," MD said loudly. "Wilbur's got no-one but me!"</p>
<p>"And Schlatt," Wilbur piped in.</p>
<p>Tommy groaned. "Not you, too!" He was really sick of people reading his mind.</p>
<p>Schlatt spoke up from wherever he was. "I'm gonna sleep. For awhile. I'm bored. Jerking off is boring."</p>
<p>"Alright, gross. Whatever," Tommy said.</p>
<p>MD and Wilbur just kept being loud. Tommy wished he had ears he could cover.</p>
<p>------</p>
<p>"Happy six month death day anniversary, Tommy!" Wilbur said excitedly. "I think."</p>
<p>"Yeah..." Tommy didn't exactly feel like it was something worth celebrating.</p>
<p>"How's it going man, you feeling alright?"</p>
<p>Tommy snorted at Wilbur's feigned worry. "Yeah, better than ever."</p>
<p>"You could say you're- straight vibing?" Wilbur said with an invisible grin.</p>
<p>Tommy wished that he had eyes he could roll. "Oh fuck off, that's not even funny. You're more annoying than usual today."</p>
<p>"I don't know, something feels different."</p>
<p>Tommy hummed in thought. "How long is left, do you know?"</p>
<p>"So, for the universe to end-" Wilbur started.</p>
<p>"I didn't mean the universe, you dumbass."</p>
<p>"Hey, don't interrupt me." Tommy wished that he could roll his eyes yet again. That wish was sure becoming a common occurrence. "'Til the universe ends, I reckon we've got a couple more eons-"</p>
<p>"You really like your facts, don't you?"</p>
<p>Wilbur snorted. "Tommy, I swear to fuck stop interrupting me."</p>
<p>"Sure, sure."</p>
<p>"So I'm seeing about eight more eons- Do you know how long an eon is? Of course you don't-" Tommy really didn't know what an eon was. Was it a fish? It sounded like a type of fish. Like Nemo. "Anyways, do you want to play some competitive solitaire?"</p>
<p>Tommy made a gagging noise. "What the fuck is solitaire?"</p>
<p>Wilbur chucked. "A game. I was thinking of setting up a big solitaire arena, y'know-"</p>
<p>"Oh, shut up!" Tommy was done with big words and stupid things he didn't understand. "I fucking hate it here, man. Jesus Christ." It was silent for a second. Did that seriously hurt Wilbur's feelings? After everything they've said to eachother over the past months? "Oh c'mon, you know I was joking! Fine, keep talking about goddamn solitaire." It was silent for another moment.</p>
<p>"Will...?"</p>
<p>Suddenly, there was a blinding light. Tommy couldn't see, and he averted his eyes.</p>
<p>"Tommy? Tommy? Did it work?"</p>
<p>Oh fuck no.</p>
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